


Don't Cry For Me Baby

by MissThief



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Derek, Derek's Manpain, Dubious Consent, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Possessive Derek, Self Harm, Some Fluff, Unrequited Love, happy ending I promise, unhealthy relationship cause my roommate said to add this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-07 17:11:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissThief/pseuds/MissThief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time was unexpected, but not unpleasant. </p>
<p>The second time was a bit more messy. No foreplay, no talking. Just the nitty gritty. </p>
<p>After that...well...it wasn't hard to see this was no fairy tale. He was stuck.</p>
<p>He wasn’t in hell. He was just close enough to touch the flames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Fine. Really.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [palecrimsongoddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/palecrimsongoddess/gifts).



> Hey guys! So, as promised, I am starting on a full length fic. I have no idea how long this one is going to be, but I'm looking at quite a few chapters.
> 
> This is a story about how Derek is slowly losing his sanity after the events of season 3. He uses Stiles as an anchor to ground himself to reality because it's convenient. Stiles forces himself to believe that everything is ok, and that he is ok with being used. But Stiles is falling deeper into his own hole, and who will be there to save him?
> 
> This first chapter is more of a teaser, so it's short. 
> 
> WARNING: This is an angst fic. There will be scenes that get a little heavy and dark, so if you are uncomfortable reading things like that, please feel free to pass them up. I'll warn you in the beginning notes.

The first time was unexpected, but not unpleasant. 

The second time was a bit more messy. No foreplay, no talking. Just the nitty gritty. 

After that...well...it wasn't hard to see this was no fairy tale. He was stuck. They were both stuck. It was the physical contact that kept them both sane. It was the physical contact that would drive them both crazy. He knew that; he knew that one day he’d drown.

It wasn’t so bad though. At least that is what he told himself. It was easy enough to trick himself into thinking that. He could trick himself into thinking that he could live with this setup for the rest of his life. He could go about everyday with a smile on his face. He could laugh and goof off with everyone else, and pretend like he didn’t see the sympathetic looks thrown his way.

He didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want anyone to cry for him. It wasn’t so bad.

He wasn’t in hell. He was just close enough to touch the flames.

\-----

SLAM!

Stiles jerked up from his deep sleep when a stack of books dropped next to his head. “Mr. Stilinski! Are you planning on joining us today?” Looking around, Stiles saw that he was not at home like he had thought. He was in third period math, surrounded by his giggling classmates and a very unimpressed teacher. He let out a groan as he slumped back in his seat, tuning out the teacher’s bitching. 

He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Derek had had a particularly bad episode, and Stiles hadn’t gotten home until early in the morning. He was just lucky that his dad had been working an overnight shift, so he hadn’t seen the figure of his worn out son dragging himself in through the back door at the crack of dawn. Stiles had gotten maybe half an hour of sleep before having to get up, get showered, and get himself to school. 

“If you aren’t going to take this class seriously, then you can just go spend some time at the principal’s office,” the teacher said in a firm tone. Stiles sighed loudly before grabbing his things and walking out. Maybe he could get some sleep in the library. The study rooms were at the back of the library and fairly quiet. There was still plenty of time before third period ended to get a good nap in. Hell, he might even skip lunch period right after. It’s not like he had much of an appetite these days anyway. He’d just munch on some chips before the day was through, and that would be enough.

Stiles found an empty, single person study room, and dropped down into the chair like a sack of bricks. His body hurt, but that was normal after nights with Derek. Sometimes the wolf would go easy on him, but it seemed like lately it was all claws, teeth, and plenty of bruising. Something was bothering Derek more than usual, but Stiles never asked questions. He wouldn’t get answers anyway. It was easier to just give the wolf what he wanted. 

The room was comfortably warm, and Stiles felt himself drifting off to sleep again. Even on nights that he didn’t spend with Derek, Stiles was finding it hard to get rest. Maybe this time he’d get a peaceful sleep. Maybe this time he wouldn’t dream.

\----

_Soft grunts came from above as the two bodies met again and again. Trembling fingers reached up to run through messy black locks, but the other person pulled away._

_A fleeting emotional pain ran through him, but it was pushed back down._

_A physical pain distracted him. Looks like he’d have another bruise to cover up. At least this time it was on his hips._

_He turned his eyes up towards the other person, but couldn’t see anything._

_It was dark._

_It was always dark._

_It didn’t stop him from trying to catch the other man’s eyes. He always tried to make eye contact. He always tried to make some form of contact. He wanted a connection._

_He just wanted one sign that there was more, that there could be more._

_He never made contact._

_He never got his sign._

_He choked back a cry as he climaxed. There was a time when a name would cross his lips, but those times were long gone._

_His eyes fluttered shut when he felt himself get filled. A soft gasp escaped him involuntarily. His heart betrayed him and skipped a beat as he wondered if this time would be different._

_He wondered if this time the other man would stay._

_The bed creaked and he was alone._

\----

The bell rang to signal the end of the period, and Stiles jerked up from his sleep. Was that bell always so damn loud? He could hear the students talking softly as they picked up their things, the chairs scraping across the floor. It was noisy. He was glad it was noisy. No one would notice if Stiles left the room or stayed. He wanted to stay here in this sanctuary for the rest of the day, but he knew he couldn’t. He’d eventually get tossed out to go attend classes. 

Something trickled down his cheek, and Stiles quickly wiped it away. He couldn’t do this. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do it anymore. “Get it together,” he whispered to himself, biting his tongue to distract himself. Physical pain was the best remedy. At least he could control this pain. 

He couldn’t control his heart though, and his insides ached. But no one could see that. No one could tell he was hurting. And he wasn’t hurting. Not about this. No, Stiles wasn’t hurting at all. He was perfectly fine. After a few deep breaths, he gathered his things and left the room, pasting a smile on his face as he waved at a few of his friends on the way to the cafeteria.


	2. Let's Go Crazy Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a bit of a tough time with this chapter. I realized that since I'm not in high school anymore, it's very hard for me to write angst! :D
> 
> But I did the best I could so hopefully you all enjoy it
> 
> Thanks to my two betas for helping me out!

“Stiles, you aren’t listening!” whined Scott as the two teens wandered aimlessly through the food court at the mall. It was a little after one on Saturday, and Stiles wanted to be anywhere besides the mall. He didn’t really want to be in public at all. In fact, he really didn’t even want to be hanging out with Scott. But his best friend had pestered him until he had agreed to go out. Stiles had instantly regretted it.

“Yes I am!” Stiles argued back. He totally wasn’t.

“Then what was the last thing I said?” Scott had that look on his face like he was about to huff and pout. 

“Uhh...you said...shoes! You said something about shoes,” Stiles said in a confident tone of voice with a smug look on his face. It was all an act, and he knew Scott saw right through it. But these silly arguments really brought Stiles back to a simpler time, before their whole lives were turned upside-down. Before the smiles were fake. 

“Stiles…”

“Yea?”

“You’re a dumb ass.” 

Stiles smacked Scott on the back of the head, and the two boys continued their bickering even as they stood in line to buy their food. Stiles wasn’t actually hungry, but Scott had once threatened to force feed him if he didn’t eat at least once while in his company. Thinking about it, Stiles realized that he hadn’t eaten in almost a whole day. Possibly even two days. Maybe he should eat. 

“Stiles, I really don’t know what I’m going to do. I think Allison is really mad at me, but I don’t know how to fix it.” Scott was now pouting, slouching slightly from depression and letting out a whimper. Stiles had mentioned a few times before that Scott would make a great were-puppy. He’d stopped mentioning it out loud though after the knocks to the head started making him see stars. 

Stiles rolled his eyes as he paid for his order and searched for a place to sit. “I don’t know, dude. Get her some flowers and chocolates. Girls like that sort of thing! And if that doesn’t work, then...I don’t know what to tell you.” Stiles didn’t exactly have a great track record with girls! His closest experience was his constant failed attempts to woo Lydia. That TV was a bitch to get in his jeep not once but twice! He finally found a place that wasn’t too crowded and sat down, picking half-heartedly at his fries.

Scott groaned in annoyance as he took a bite of his food. “Dude, you are horrible at giving advice.”

“Then why ask for it? How the fuck am I supposed to know how real relationships work?” Stiles said that last part with a bit of anger, causing Scott to frown and look away. Shit, now he just made things awkward. “I’m sorry,” he said calmly. 

Scott just nodded without saying anything. They ate in silence for a few, uncomfortable minutes. Stiles knew what Scott wanted to talk about, but he really didn’t want to discuss it. Especially not in public. “Stiles…”

“No, Scott.” Stiles was not going to talk about it. There was nothing to talk about anyway! 

“Stiles, please. I’m your best friend. I’m worried about you!” 

Stiles was no longer hungry, or in the mood to be hanging out at the mall. He wanted to go home. He stood up and grabbed his tray of mostly uneaten food, then went to find the nearest trash can. He could hear Scott calling after him, following him as he stormed through the mall to get to the parking lot. He was reaching in his pocket for his keys when Scott grabbed him by the arm. “Let go,” Stiles demanded in a quiet, stern tone. 

“Not until we talk about this.” Scott tightened his grip on Stiles as the other boy began trying to pull his arm away. “I’m worried about you. It's been going on for too long. He's just using you! This isn’t healthy, and you know it. Please let me help you.”

Stiles looked up at Scott with anger and opened his mouth to say something nasty, but the sound of his cell phone distracted him. It was a text message. Scott’s mouth formed a thin line in anger. They both knew whose ringtone that belonged to. Stiles shut his mouth and turned his head away, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. His body was trembling as he tried to control himself. He went to reach for his phone, but Scott grabbed his other hand.

“Don’t answer it,” the wolf said in an almost threatening tone. 

Stiles kept his eyes closed, continuing to breathe in deeply. He wasn’t going to cause a scene in public. He wasn’t going to bitch at Scott and tell him to fuck off. Scott was just trying to be a good friend. Stiles knew that, but he didn’t want Scott to be a good friend right now. He just wanted Scott to get the hell out of his face before Stiles said something really hurtful. “Scott…” Stiles said, finally opening his eyes to look at the wolf. 

Scott searched Stiles’ eyes for a moment before he let go and backed off. It looked like he wanted to say something, but changed his mind at the last second. Scott then turned and walked back to the mall. Stiles watched him go and a little bit of panic rushed through him. How much longer was Stiles going to be able to push Scott away before Scott never came back? How much longer would they be friends if Stiles kept Scott at arms length?

The teen got into his jeep and gripped the steering wheel tightly as he tried to calm himself down. This was not the time or place to have a panic attack. He’d be fine. He and Scott had been through so much together! They’d been a team since they were little kids! Scott wasn’t going to stop being friends with him just because of this. Scott was a bigger person than that! Stiles really, really hoped that Scott was a bigger person. The stress and panic momentarily got the better of him, and Stiles punched the steering wheel. It didn’t help to solve any of his problems, but it did help him feel a little bit better for a few seconds. 

Stiles ran a hand through his messy hair. This was not the time to be freaking out. His problems weren’t important. His problems were tiny compared to Derek’s. Derek was on a whole other level of fucked up. And Stiles was the only person who could see Derek through them. At least that’s what he told himself. It’s how he justified what was about to happen. Stiles started his car and drove off to Derek’s loft. He didn’t even have to check his phone to know what it said.

Come over.

\----

Stiles was biting his lip as he rode the elevator up to Derek’s loft. He’d always felt a little uncomfortable coming here, since it was such a cold and empty place. It was worse now that the pack was down a few members. The remaining pack used to gather at least once a week to try and bring Derek out of his funk. They’d bring movies, junk food, games, and anything else they could think of to get Derek to try and socialize a little, but nothing ever worked. It seemed like their presence only made things worse.

Then that first night…

Stiles shook his head to rid himself of that memory. It wasn’t a time that he liked thinking of. The elevator buzzed to signal that he’d arrived at the floor, and it was a sufficient enough distraction from his memories. He walked to the front door and let himself in; the door was never locked when Derek expected Stiles to come over. Even if it were locked, Stiles had a key. Derek had given it to him one day with no explanation, though none was needed.

Stiles walked through the dimly lit loft as quietly as he could, though he knew Derek was probably hiding in the shadows somewhere watching him. It was completely silent, and he could hear the noises from the street clearly. He could never stand the silence too long, so he went to the kitchen and helped himself to a beer. He made a lot of noise as he tried to find the bottle opener, but by the time he dug it out of the drawer his hands were shaking too badly to use it. Crap, he really needed to control his emotions better! Stiles didn't need to be having a panic attack in Derek's home. Fucking hell, he wanted to go home.

A large figure suddenly stood behind him, and Stiles felt his breath catch. Two muscular arms reached over him to take the bottle from his trembling grasp. He heard the pop of the cap coming off, then the bottle was being given back to him. The large, callused hands lingered over his own momentarily, but it was enough to steady Stiles' shaking.

Derek pulled away and, without a word, stepped back into the dim living room. Stiles let out the breath he was holding, and tried to calm his heart. Derek had no clue what he did to Stiles. He had no clue just how much of a mess Stiles became because of him. He wouldn't find out.

Once he'd calmed himself, Stiles went into the living room after Derek. He saw the wolf sitting on a chair by the window, staring across the room with a troubled expression. His eyes darted back and forth like he was tracking movement. As long as Derek wasn't screaming at people that only he could see, Stiles called it a win. 

Stiles began making his way to the alpha when a glint of metal caught his eye. He turned and saw one of the pillars on the side of the room had fresh claw marks in it. He ran his fingers over the deep cuts slowly. Derek had broken a few things before, but he must have been really stressed to claw into metal.

"It was the only way to stop them from laughing," came Derek's strained voice. 

Stiles did not speak; he just nodded his head once. Questioning Derek was a no-no, and trying to convince him that he was imagining things could be dangerous. So Stiles simply sat down beside the pillar and watched Derek from afar, drinking his beer quietly. 

"They were here again," the wolf said after a few moments of silence. "Sitting on the couch. I told them to leave. I told them they weren't real, but they just started laughing." Derek was running his hands over and over through his hair, clearly upset. He was easily upset lately. Stiles didn’t blame him; if he had gone through half of the things Derek had been through, he’d probably be on the verge of cracking too. Betrayal, guilt, death. So much death. 

Stiles couldn’t stop himself from feeling pity for the poor man in front of him. He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to take Derek into his arms and shield him from the world, and all the bad people in it. He wanted to stroke that pitch black hair, place kisses along that stubbled jaw, and tell Derek that he would never leave. Stiles would never betray him. Stiles would prove to Derek that there was still someone in this world who wanted to make him happy. 

But that’s not what Derek wanted. It’s not the reason that Derek had called Stiles over tonight. Or any other night. Derek had built up a thick wall around himself, cutting any emotional connections he’d built with the group. He was still alpha, and behaved as such when needed, but there was no life behind those eyes. Derek seemed like he was on autopilot most of the time, except when he was with Stiles. He would release all his pent up frustrations onto Stiles’ body, and Stiles… Stiles just couldn’t say no.

Stiles had tried over the years to get closer to Derek. He wanted to mean something to the wolf. After the events with the nemeton, Stiles had desperately tried to break down Derek’s wall as quickly as it was being built. He pretty much forced himself into Derek’s life even more than usual, which was how he got into this mess. Stiles wanted to be Derek’s anchor, just...not like this. How was he expected to hold someone else up, when he himself was breaking? Derek never took notice. Days became weeks, which slowly began turning into months, but Derek never noticed that Stiles himself was cracking. 

“Derek?” he called out cautiously. If the wolf even heard him, he didn’t give any sign. “Why don’t we leave here? Go out and enjoy the day.” Stiles wanted to get Derek out into the world, so he could see that that the sun still shone, the birds still sang, and that everything would be ok. He wanted Derek to know that he could be happy again. Derek remained silent, and Stiles called out to him again.

Those green eyes snapped towards him like he’d just realized Stiles was there, and stared at him with the unblinking gaze of a mad man. Stiles shifted uncomfortably underneath the constant gaze, and tapped his finger against the beer bottle in his hand. “You think I’m crazy,” Derek finally spoke, just barely above a whisper.

“Derek, no-”

“Yes you do!” Derek yelled, now suddenly in a rage. Stiles scooted away from the man, never taking his eyes off of him. “You think I’m crazy, and you don’t want to be here! You couldn’t give a shit about me!” Angry Derek was scary, but angry Derek in the middle of a mental breakdown was downright terrifying. 

“That’s not true!” Stiles yelled back, now rising to his feet. It probably wasn’t smart to argue with a crazed werewolf, but Stiles had been having a bad week and snapped momentarily. “I do care! That’s why I’m here! I’m trying to help you, for fucks sake! I’m always trying to help you! You’re just too fucking self absorbed all the time to notice!” 

Derek stood from his chair, and for a second Stiles thought the wolf was going to charge at him. The now red eyes were glaring at him, and a low, rumbling growl filled the air. But Stiles wasn't going to show how freaked out he was, even though he knew Derek could easily hear his thumping heartbeat. He stood still watching the alpha warily, though he didn’t make direct eye contact. Never look an angry dog in the eye, right? He was sure that applied to werewolves too.

“Go home,” Derek spat. There was a vulnerable shaking to his voice that Stiles heard clearly, though Derek was doing his best to hide it under anger. “I don't need you.”

Stiles shook his head. “No.” Stiles hated this back and forth argument they always had. Derek knew Stiles would never leave. It's not like he didn't want to sometimes, but Stiles didn't have it in his heart to abandon Derek. If only the wolf could see that.

Derek just sneered. “You aren't here for me. You are here to make yourself feel better. Like I'm some project for you to work on. Your good deed of the day.” His tone was mocking and hurtful, and Stiles felt like it was a punch to the gut.

Stiles wanted to argue with Derek. He wanted to say that the reason he came every day was not out of obligation, or a need to feel superior. Stiles cared for Derek far more than just a friend, and had wanted...maybe still wanted...something more with the wolf. But he'd never been able to convince Derek that he was honestly trying to help before, and knew today wouldn't be different. "Let's go out. Get some food."

“I don’t want to go out,” Derek said, but his tone was laced with just a hint of fear. Derek seemed almost scared of the world, and Stiles could feel that damn sympathy rearing its ugly head again.

“Please, Derek,” Stiles practically begged, gathering his courage and stepping closer to Derek. Derek sank back down in his chair slowly, as if all the fight were drained from him. Stiles was wondering if he was bipolar. “Let’s do something together. I'll be with you the whole time.”

Derek shook his head. He looked angry, upset, lonely, and vulnerable. And crazy. There was definitely a crazy vibe going on. “Don't ask me to go out. I can't handle it. I just...I need something simple. No strings, no commitments. I don't want anything else. You're the only one who can do this for me."

Stiles wanted to beat his head repeatedly into the metal post. Damn it, he hated Derek Hale so fucking much! Why the fuck did he have to care so much about this selfish, angry, bad tempered jackass? Why did his heart ache every time he thought about the prick? Why the fuck did Stiles stay up so late at night thinking about ways to fix Derek? If Derek didn’t want to be fixed, if he didn't want anything more than an easy fuck, then so be it! Stiles should just move on to someone less damaged! Stiles should just find someone who cared about him!

But even as he thought that, Stiles knew he'd never be able to give up on Derek. He knew that too well. Even as he felt his heart breaking from the reality of their relationship, he couldn’t turn away. Derek needed him, and Stiles, in some twisted way, wanted to be needed. If this is what it took to have Derek in his life, then…

Maybe Stiles was just as crazy as Derek. They could go crazy together. Didn't that sound delightful?

He walked up to the man then stopped a few inches from the alpha and kept his head down. He was ashamed that he was so desperate to do anything to make Derek happy. He could feel those red eyes on him, and seconds later he could feel the large hands sliding under his shirt,trailing over his skin. They ran over all the tiny nicks and bruises covering Stiles’ chest and arms; marks that Derek used to claim this body for his own. 

Stiles was still anxious about what was coming next. Maybe Derek would go easy on him tonight. Derek stood and towered over him, and suddenly Stiles felt very small. Lips suddenly pushed onto his, and he closed his eyes and let out a slight whimper as Derek ravished his mouth. But the kiss didn’t last long as Derek moved his mouth to more tender areas, such as his throat and shoulders. Each bite brought more and more whimpers from the teen, and Stiles knew he would have to wear a button up shirt tomorrow to hide his new bruises. 

Derek’s large hands were tearing at his jeans now, like he wanted to rip them off without a care. Long ago, Stiles had pictured this moment with gentle caresses, needy but loving at the same time. There was only desperation in these touches, a need to grab at something real before it vanished.

'It's not his fault,' Stiles told himself. 'He's scared. He doesn't mean to be rough.' Stiles suddenly realized that they had moved to the couch, and let out a slight grunt when Derek's now shirtless body pushed down into his. The man's lips were trailing down Stiles' chest now. He let out a few soft noises in response, and looked down to watch Derek work. 

Derek was gorgeous. His features were so sharp and defined, and absolutely perfect. His skin seemed to glow in the afternoon light, and Stiles watched each muscle in Derek's back ripple and move smoothly. His mop of messy, black hair framed his face perfectly and Stiles wanted to touch it. He didn't. Derek's stubble scratched Stiles' tummy, and he had to stop a giggle. Instead, he let out a sigh while Derek teased his nipples. Stiles was straining against his boxers, and squeezed Derek's arm to signal for him to continue. No words were needed; Derek was familiar enough with Stiles' body to understand. 

The alpha made quick work of the last of Stiles' clothes, and in no time the boy was completely naked on the couch. Stiles couldn't stop the little tremble of nervousness. Even after all this time, he still felt embarrassed to be so exposed to Derek. He watched as Derek's eyes trailed over his naked skin, and wished he could know what the man was thinking when he looked at Stiles. Did he like what he saw? Did he regret anything that they’d ever done? Did he regret picking Stiles? Stiles tried hard, but he could never read the man. Derek was one tough son of a bitch to crack.

The next few hours were lost to Stiles. He never really remembered anything that went on during their little encounters. By now it had just become a blur of sex, their two bodies melding together in a terrible, beautiful image of pain and pleasure. Stiles begged over and over for the sweet high of orgasm, fully knowing that he broke a little more each time. He never thought that one could feel both complete and empty at the same time. In between rounds, Derek kept his distance. Stiles always watched him silently from the bed, fantasizing in his head about an alternate universe where this was a perfect relationship. 

It was around six when Stiles made his way into his home. It had been a long day, and now all he wanted to do was shower and sleep. He shuffled his way in through the back entrance, kicking off his shoes and wincing at the effort it took to make it down the hall. He’d have to check for more bruises in the bathroom. Was walking always this hard? Maybe he pulled something.

He could hear the TV playing softly in the kitchen, and the clinks of silverware hitting a plate. His dad was home. The realization brought a wave of both panic and relief to the poor kid. Suddenly Stiles wanted to pretend he was five years old again, running to his daddy for comfort and protection from all the scary monsters of the world. Who would have guessed that it would be Stiles protecting his dad. But he wasn’t the hero of this story. He couldn’t stop the big, bad wolf.

“Hey, kiddo,” the sheriff said with a gentle smile. Stiles suddenly had to bite his tongue to keep a wave of emotion from crashing over him. 

“Hey, dad,” Stiles answered after clearing his throat. There were some reactions only his father could get out of him, but Stiles couldn’t handle feeling anything right now. “You off tonight?”

“Yea. I was thinking about getting in a quick run before it got too late. Did you want to come?”

Stiles quickly shook his head. The idea of running even five steps sounded like torture to him right now. He was sure that if he tried, his body would just break apart at the seams. “Nah, dad. I get enough exercise chasing all the things that go bump in the night through the whole town. Well...they are usually chasing me...but I’m still running, right? So that counts! Pretty sure I can try out for the olympics if this keeps up!” He laughed at his own terrible joke, hoping that his dad would just shake his head like usual then head out.

The sheriff wasn’t moving though. He was watching Stiles silently, which made the boy shift uncomfortably from one leg to the other. “Stiles, have you been eating?” the sheriff asked after a few moments. He’d noticed that Stiles had been looking pretty thin lately. He wanted to believe that it was because Stiles was getting a lot of exercise, but he knew that probably wasn’t the answer. His son had never shied away from food before, but the sheriff couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a meal together. Was it because they were both busy, or was it something else?

Stiles put on a hurt look and began the act. “Why, father! Of course I’ve been eating! I’m still a growing boy after all! Why would you think otherwise? Nutritionists say that eating a balanced diet of fruits and-”

“Ok. I get it,” the sheriff said, raising a hand to cut off Stiles’ monologue, since he knew it was meant to make him drop the subject anyway. He put his plate in the sink, then grabbed his keys and jacket. “I’ll be back soon. Lock up after me.”

Stiles nodded and waited till he was sure his father had left before he let out a deep sigh. He hated lying to his father, but the man had just recently been introduced to the supernatural world and had a lot on his plate. He didn’t want to add on the fact that his only son was sleeping with the enemy. It was best to take things one step at a time.

Speaking of taking one step at a time, it took far longer than Stiles liked to get up the stairs. He drew a hot bath and sank in, hissing as the hot water burned his skin, but it wasn’t too painful. The house was quiet now, except for the buzzing of the bathroom fan and the occasional splash of water when Stiles adjusted himself. He groaned and plopped a washcloth over his face, the loud splat ringing in his ears. Slowly his muscles started to relax, and Stiles finally let his guard down. It was only in these very private moments that he let himself be vulnerable. His breathing became more rapid as he let the wave of emotions he’d been suppressing come crashing down on him, and a quiet sob escaped before he could stop it. He made a fist so tight that his fingers cut deep into his palm, leaving bright, angry indentations. It hurt, but Stiles was finding out more and more that physical pain was much more enjoyable than emotional pain. At least he could control this.

There was a lot that was out of control with Stiles’ life. He’d come to terms with that long ago. But he’d always thought that the one thing he’d be able to control was his body. It was his body for fucks sake! Shouldn’t he be able to say what could be done to it, and when and where? Shouldn’t he be able to say what he wanted? Somewhere along the line Stiles had lost control of his body to Derek, and he was so far down the rabbit hole now that he was almost terrified to take it back. But then again, a part of him didn’t want control back. ‘Derek needs me,’ he told himself over and over, chanting it in his head until he started to believe it. ‘I’m the only one who can help him. I’m doing it for him.’

Stiles lay in the cooling bathwater as he replayed the days events in his head, wondering if maybe Derek had given him a sign that he felt something. He wanted, NEEDED, a sign that Derek was ready to let him in. Stiles was sure that he could fix Derek, and that one day he would finally get the one thing he desperately wanted; Derek’s heart. It was a just a dream, but there was still just enough hope left in the boy to keep it alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is. I'd love to hear comments about this one. 
> 
> Stay tuned for chapter three!

**Author's Note:**

> So what do you guys think? I have a few ideas on where to take this fic, but I love hearing feedback.
> 
> Also, super excited for the new season tomorrow!!! Sterek forever!! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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